Luciana's Lament
by Rabid Gerbil 666
Summary: Oneshot. Just an interesting story from Luciana's pov about what happened in Italy with alternate ending. Very enjoyable. I think. EOW sort of


**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Erik or any of the other characters in this phic. They all belong to Susan Kay. Sigh. Anyways, this is a crappy phic but a depressingly fun one to write none-the-less. Feel free to expand on this story, rewrite it, make it longer, etc. You don't even have to give me credit for it. Just go wild and allow the creative juices to flow. Er, yeah. Anyways, enjoy!**

"_You want to see" he said in a toneless voice that seemed to belong to a sepulcher. _"You want to see? _Then look!"_

I heard Erik scream these last few words to my father and me. He seemed enraged that my father had ordered him to remove his mask. The hurt and betrayal in Erik's eyes were almost too much for me to bear, and for a brief moment I wondered if I had made the right choice in forcing Erik to remove his mask.

Erik was walking towards me, and with every step he seemed to grow more pitiful and anguished. Soon he was in front of me, blocking out the rays of the setting sun and leaving me in cold darkness. I raised my eyes to meet his. There was an infinite amount of regret in their gold depths. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. At least, not until Erik ripped the mask off of his face.

His face had been only inches from my own. The close proximity to that face only made it more terrifying. It was the face of my worst nightmare, the face of a person long dead. How could God create something so hideous?

I don't remember if I screamed, although I am fairly certain that I at least uttered a gasp of shock. I tried to distance myself from that corpse, but found that with every step I took away from him he advanced another step. I couldn't even bring myself to look in his eyes, but if I had I am sure I would have seen one thing I didn't think I could handle at that moment. Pain. Oh, God, why did you do this to me? Was this some cruel trick of yours, to make me love a monster? It was even crueler of you to make a monster love me!

I continued my retreat, but I realized that I was not far from the edge of the rooftop. Soon I would have nowhere to go. I would be cornered by Erik.

I did not have as much room to escape as I had anticipated. I had taken a step back when I discovered that the stones, which had lasted for so many years, had crumbled under my weight. There was no longer stone under my feet. I could hear the stones giving way beneath my feet.

Time slowed, it no longer had any meaning. Scenes from my life assaulted me, from the time I was locked in the basement as a child to just moments ago when Erik ripped off his mask.

Before I fell to my death, I caught a hold of my father's eyes. A silent parting passed between the two of us. Both of us apologized to the other; me for being so demanding, him for being so giving.

I braced myself for the inevitable. My eyes slid shut, my soul prepared for its flight.

The inevitable never came.

A hand grasped my own in a grip that crushed the delicate bones in my hand. Without thinking I reached up with my other hand to grab onto something, anything. The instincts inside us all that push us to live are truly incredible. My other hand made contact with rock, and I pulled myself up with all of my strength.

With the help of my savior, I was pulled back onto the rooftop and safely away from the edge of the roof. I opened my eyes and stared into the dead face of Erik. To me, however, it was no longer dead. He looked concerned, worried, and, dare I say it, _relieved_ that I was not gone.

Time had now stopped entirely. I turned my thoughts inward. I needed some answers from myself.

I now realized that my actions were entirely childish, no, _despicable_! Was I really so shallow that I ran away from the one I loved because he did not resemble the rest of humanity?

I remembered with infinite regret that I had thought him a monster. How ironic it is that I should be the monster instead of him. I was the one who ran from Erik when he needed a person to be there for him. Instead of letting me die like he should have, however, he acted out of kindness and spared my life. He was more humane than the majority of the human species. He was more humane than I.

I had known that I needed to correct some things with my personality before Erik had even come into my life. I had never realized, however, how selfish and _stupid_ I really was!

All I managed to whisper before fatigue claimed me was, "Thank you, Erik."

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The nurse told me that I had been asleep for three days. For three days I had been blissfully dreaming of Erik. He had saved me. He had healed me. I loved him because of that, and for so many other reasons as well. It was irrational, the love I felt for him. I was young, though, and one cannot choose where they love.

I had been hoping to wake to see Erik's face, either masked or unmasked. It no longer mattered whether he wore his façade or not. Instead, I woke to see the worried face of my father. His health had been failing him for quite some time, but never before had he actually looked sick. When I woke up, however, he appeared to be ninety years old. He was not the man he had been. But then, all of us were changed.

"Where is Erik?" I questioned. Papa had just closed his eyes, as though it hurt him to look at me. I knew, in that moment, that Erik was gone. Some time in those three days that I had been asleep Erik had left.

I screamed so loudly that my father and the nurse looking over me covered their ears. WHY? Why was Erik gone? My screams couldn't be stopped, and even though my voice grew harsh and raspy, I couldn't stop. The doctor had to put me to sleep with laudanum. I slept once more, but this time Erik was not in my dreams to comfort me. Instead, the horrors of reality chased me. I tried to run, but could run no further. My limbs were leaden and dead.

I woke up again within a few hours. The doctor hadn't given me a heavy dose of the drug, but it was enough. I woke up and immediately cried. I cried more that day than I had ever before in my life. I couldn't stop crying if I tried. Even now I cry. Erik was gone. Why? Because of his face. Because of me.

Erik's face no longer scared me. It was simply another part of the man that I loved.

I questioned God, not for the first time that week. Why have You given one of your angels the face of a devil? How could You do something so cruel when You are known for Your kindness and perfection? The worst crime You have committed, however, was taking away the one person in my life who_ needed_ me, and who _I_ needed as well.

After that day, that fateful day that I had been saved, I renounced my devotion to God. Why should I believe in Him when there was no longer proof that He exists? Had there ever been proof that He existed?

My father, frightened for my sanity, had no choice to lock me away from society. Everyone who had seen me after the whole ordeal had pronounced me a raving lunatic. But I can assure you that I am not mad. I am lost. And no one will ever find me. No one cares to find me any longer. I have grown old now, and my father is long dead. My home is in ruins. The neighborhood children whisper of the "ghost" that lives in the old stone house. They tell of the tragic insanity of the Luciana, a beautiful woman who loved a "beast." It's very poetic and all, but I assure you that in reality the beast fell in love with the beautiful man.

To this day I mourn what was lost. At night I make believe that Erik is with me, watching over me. I see him laboring over some new invention, or drawing the plans for a grand building. It doesn't matter to me what he is doing, so long as he is with me. Only in the darkness can I pretend that everything is alright.

I find myself often wondering where Erik is now. These musings come with sunlight, and I have learned to fear and hate the golden rays of day. A greedy part of my heart wishes that he never love another asheloved me. I always enrage myself when I think these thoughts. How could I be so selfish? He, of all people. deserved happiness!

When my heart doesn't ache with loneliness and selfishness, I find myself praying that Erik has found love, or at least happiness. Something in my heart tells me that he has never had either in his life, however, and will die as I do. Alone. If only he could see that he _is _loved.

I often find myself wishing I had fallen to my death that day. Instead, I live in Hell, forever without my angel. My love. My Erik.


End file.
